


Man Boobs

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 17:01:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11384517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean is a trans dude who uses they/them pronouns and makes bad life decisions. Cas finds out.





	Man Boobs

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely unbeta'd. It also has some pretty detailed descriptions of binding injuries and boobs. The point of the fic is very clear, but get a professional binder. Don't use tape. Please.

Dean stared at the roll of tape in their hand. They knew better. They really did. But it was just a normal shift, it couldn’t be that bad. And to not have boobs…

They made their decision and began wrapping their breasts with the extra roll of athletic tape they had lying around, trying to keep it loose to minimize the damage. Dean started at the top of their chest and began working their way down. 

It was harder than they expected, and it kept getting wrinkled, even though Dean would have sworn they were being tremendously careful. Every time they had to pass it around their back, the tape got twisted, but eventually they finished and checked out their handiwork.

It looked so. Much. better. Despite the tightness of the tape, they finally felt like they could breathe. 

Dean cheerfully pulled a shirt on over the tape and looked in the mirror, expecting to see a gloriously flat chest.

Instead, they saw wrinkles.

Fuck.

Turning back and forth, they tried to figure out if someone else was going to notice. The answer was an unequivocal yes. 

So off the shirt came, and the tape, too. 

Peeling it off was...not as bad as they thought it would be. It hurt, don’t get them wrong, but it didn’t tear off any skin, it just burned like a giant bandaid. They could definitely do this on the regular.

Encouraged, they rewrapped their chest, this time taking even more care with the wrinkles and wrapping it even tighter, because the last time hadn’t really hurt.

When they finished, the result was passable and they almost cried from relief. They grabbed their bag, emboldened, but extraordinarily conscious of the tight, rough pressure beneath their shirt.

\----

Dean climbed out of the car and took an experimental deep breath. They could feel the tape tighten, dig into their ribs, and maybe give a little. They could do this all day. And planned on it.

It was just a normal day of driving, except, of course, that Cas was there. That was nice.

The whole day had a happy edge to it, something that Dean hadn’t experienced in years. Even though they were just in the car, filling up with gas, and getting food from shitty diners, every single activity was novel. 

But by the end of the day, their ribs burned, so at the next stop they went into the bathroom and began unwrapping the (slightly sweaty and uncomfortably tight) tape.

Dean got a bit of a nasty shock as the tape did not come off anywhere near as easily as it had that morning. 

Shit.

This was going to take a while.

They found the end, and began trying to unwind it. It was worst under the arms, but they soldiered through. By the time they got through two or three circuits of their ribs, they were starting to feel pretty confident. It wasn’t so bad. 

The worst was yet to come. 

Once they reached their actual breasts, it became significantly more painful, and tears were in their eyes before they finally had removed all the tape.

A quick visual examination of their breasts showed that the tape was indeed wrinkled, and now so were their boobs. Just what they needed. Also, they were a little surprised by how grateful they were for the ability to breathe deeply.

But their boobs were back, and so on came the flannel and they did their best to ignore how wonderful having a body that felt like it fit had been for once.

\----

The next day, Cas and Dean were holed up in a hotel room while Sam hunted down some leads. 

The day consisted mostly of bad television, fast food wrappers scattered around the room, and pouring over old texts to try and figure out what the deal was with this new monster. 

Without looking away from his book, Castiel patted Dean’s boob affectionately. “Damn, you’ve got pecs! Very nice!”

Dean tensed, and Castiel bent his neck at an awkward angle to look at his boyfriend. “Oh, sorry, I’m sorry, babe, didn’t mean to make the dysphoria worse.”

Dean shrugged, and tried to relax. Castiel probably didn’t know about trans masc things. “Nah it’s chill. That’s just what happens when you bind, I guess? The boobs get smooshed and look like pecs.”

Castiel smiled, excited for his partner. “Aw, I didn’t know you got a binder though! I’m happy for you!”

“I didn’t but I did DIY it and obviously it worked,” Dean sat up a little more against the headboard and curled their legs under them.

Castiel looked worried and bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s not ACE or ducttape or anything, right? You know it has to be one of those nice ones?” She sounded anxious, and Dean felt a little bad for lying to her.

“I used tape, but it’s not a big deal,” Dean said, picking up a knife and sharpening it. 

“Uhhhh if you need a binder I can get you one,” Castiel said,sitting up and sounding nervous. “That’s...you need your ribs.” He was obviously starting to get worked up, and so Dean acquiesced. They knew he was right, anyway.

“I don’t need a binder, I’m okay,” they told their boyfriend. “Thanks, though. I really do appreciate it.”

“Uh…” Castiel was obviously very uncomfortable. “I’m gonna google it, if that’s alright? I’m not...but...I’ve heard its really really really bad”

“I mean,” Dean was torn between telling Castiel it was no big deal and just lying and saying they weren’t going to do it anymore. “You can? But it doesn’t hurt so it’s not a big deal?” They were lying through their teeth. The second day hurt way more than the first. 

Castiel typed ‘binding safely’ into his search engine and waited for the results. The top one looked good, and the information matched what little Castiel knew about binding, so he clicked on it.

“Well, first of all, it says not to use tape or ACE bandages,” Castiel said, looking up. “Second of all….How long have you been wearing it?”

 

Dean flushed and looked at the ground, doing quick calculations. “Uh...maybe 8 hours? I don’t remember.” They did remember. It was approaching 11. 

Castiel continued reading. “It says you need to take it off,” and shhe e looked up at Dean, and it was clear that wasn’t going to be a choice.

Dean made a face, and Castiel’s expression softened. “I know.”

Dean buried their face in their boyfriend’s shoulder, but didn’t say anything. She held them tight, careful not to squeeze their ribs. 

“Come on, dude. Let’s order you a real one and get that thing off.” Despite the wording, Castiel didn’t loosen his hold on Dean until they let go. 

“D’you want my help or d’you wanna take it off yourself?”

Dean flushed a deep red. “uhh...i think I got it. But d'you care if I steal one of your sweatshirts?”

Castiel waved a negligent hand. “Go for it. Thanks for taking care of yourself. “ Although the words themselves were unremarkable, he said them with such sincerity that Dean teared up.

Not knowing what to say, Dean hugged her and rooted around in their shared bags for a sweatshirt and a sports bra. 

“Gay culture is wearing the exact same clothes as your partner, “ Dean said as they rooted around in Castiel's underwear. 

“Yep, but no sports bra, “ Castiel said. “I'm sorry dude, but you need to be nice to your ribs.” He was very apologetic, but knew his partner wasn’t thinking very clearly.

Dean made a face but headed to the bathroom minus a bra. 

When they came out, they had a couple raw places on their ribs where the tape had taken skin, and all of their chest was bright pink and wrinkly. Where the edge of the tape had been, there was essentially a papercut that ran the circumference of their ribs.

And it wasn't flat anymore.

The sweatshirt covered almost everything,of course, but that didn't mean Dean wasn't filled with a ridiculous number of conflicting emotions, especially since they had been binding for two days and they were in a shitty motel.

The tape was balled up under their arm, and Dean just prayed Castiel wouldn’t see the blood on it. 

They made it back in without incident, and threw the tape in the corner before laying facedown on the floor.

Castiel hesitated. On one hand, he wanted to let them be, but on the other- “D’you want to buy an actual binder?” 

Dean tried to shake their head, but it didn't work, so they sat up. “I'm good, thanks, though.”

Castiel sat on the floor with their computer. “Babe, if they bother you that much, get a binder. It's safer than the tape and you'll be happier.”

Dean tried to come up with a reason why they didn't need one and gave up. He was right. “Thanks, babe.”

Castiel kissed them on the forehead. “Love you, dude. Now what color d'you want?”

Dean looked at the options and hazarded, “Gray?” 

Castiel clicked the link and saw the sizes. “Oh no. We have to measure those fuckers.”

Dean sighed. “Whatever. Let's get this over with. D'you have anything we can measure with?”

Castiel hunted down a piece of rope and asked, “D’you think we can use this?”

“D’you have a ruler?”

“I think so?” He wasn’t entirely sure how Castiel planned to- oh wait, that made sense.

“Then yeah, I guess so.” Dean stood there uncomfortably while Castiel tried to find the end of the rope.

Castiel noticed how uncomfortable they were and asked, “D’you want me to help you measure or d’you want to do it by yourself?”

Dean made a face again, but began pulling the sweatshirt off their muscled torso. “Could you help? I’m awful at this kind of thing.”

Castiel rolled her eyes and pointed out, “I’m not much better,” but pulled up the measuring guide on the GC2B website.

“Alright, so…” Castiel skimmed through the guide and let Dean read over his shoulder. “Above the beginning of your breast tissue and below your armpits.”

Dean, who had turned a light pink, put their arms up so Castiel could wrap the yarn around their chest. They knew full well what Castiel was going to think of the state their chest was in.

“I...I’m sorry about this whole…” Dean gestured to include the situation. “I just…”

Castiel held the yarn in place but kissed their lips gently before saying, “I’m not mad, dude. I just want you to be healthy. And that,” he said, indicating the current state of their breasts with their chin. “Doesn’t qualify.”

Dean hugged Castiel tight, even though his clothes did not at all feel good on their raw chest. “I love you so goddamn much.”

Castiel gave up on the rope and hugged them back. “I love you to fucking pieces, man.”

They both stood there, head on the other person’s shoulder, for a while, until Dean pulled away. And then went back in for another hug. 

Castiel giggled a little, and kissed their muscular shoulder. “That’s gay.”

“You’re gay,” Dean said affectionately.

Castiel gasped dramatically, and then said soberly, “Yes.”

Dean rolled their eyes and let go of Castiel, “I can’t believe you put up with me.”

“Well, you put up with me,” Castiel pointed out nonchalantly, although he understood that Dean was being 100% serious. “So I think it works out about right.” He began wrapping the yarn around Dean’s chest, and then checked the measuring guide again. 

Castiel started giggling and then read, “‘We know ya look good, but try not flex or tense up when you are measuring. Make sure you are relaxed and breathing normally for the most accurate and natural reading.’”

“Fuck you,” Dean tried to stop laughing. 

“After this,” Castiel promised with a shit-eating grin. “But let’s get you a boob-be-gone shirt first.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Dean complained. 

“You betcha,” Castiel acknowledged, and the rest of the measuring finished up pretty quickly. “Alright, so d’you remember your chest size?”

“Yeah, wasn’t it like, 32?” Dean looked at the chart and made a face. “And my shoulders are a 13, too. I’ll get an extra small, then.”

“Like hell you will, you’re supposed to round up.”

Dean stuck out their tongue at him. “Alright, so I guess I’m getting a small gray half-binder?”

“Done,” Castiel chose the right size and shoved it in the cart. “D’you want to get it shipped here?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good plan.”

After filling out the rest of the information, Castiel typed in his card number, and Dean protested. “Come on, babes, it’s my boob covering!”

“Valentine’s Day is soon,” Castiel responded with a grin. “Gay culture is giving your partner a binder for Valentine’s Day.”

“You, my dearest friend, are the worst.”

“Yes.”

\----

Dean pulled into the driveway and decided that sprinting to the mailbox was the exact opposite of cool. They could walk in. Calmly. Say hi to Cas. Not bolt upstairs. 

So in that spirit, they finished polishing their guns and left them in the passenger seat, and then climbed out of the car.

No one was in the lobby, so they gave up on pretending to be patient and took the stairs two at a time to Castiel’s room. 

The door was open, so Dean shut it behind them and said, “Hey there!”

Castiel grinned. “Guess what I have,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Dean took off their (sweaty) t-shirt and asked, in a bad pirate voice, “Whar be?”

Castiel chucked a piece of cloth that looked a bit small at them. “Here.”

Dean turned it around, examining it, and asked, “D’you know which way is front?”

Castiel shrugged, “No clue! Does it matter?”

Dean thought they had found the front and pulled it on. “Damn this thing is tight,” they said, although it didn’t take them too long to get it untangled. Except now it was abundantly clear it was on backwards. 

“Oh shit,” they said. 

Castiel was obviously worried and Dean waved a hand, “Nah, I got it on, so I can get it off. No biggie.”

“I dunno...that looks really tight…”

Dean grabbed the bottom of the binder and tried to wriggle out of it. Shit. They were stuck. Ummm…. 

They tried a couple more times, and Castiel got up to hover. “D’you think if i pull the back up…?”

“Can you try?” Dean was a little more freaked out than they would like to have been.

“Mhm.”

Between the two of them, they eventually managed to get Dean out of it, and into the binder the correct way. 

Dean looked down at their boobs and beat back the slight disappointment. Tape had made them flatter. But this was so much better than normal. 

Dean scooped Castiel up in a bear hug, and Castiel laughed. “Now they really do look like pecs. Damn you look masc as hell.”

They set Castiel down and kissed them deeply. “Thank you so so so much!”

“You’re so very very welcome,” he said, grinning. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

\----


End file.
